The Curse of Apollo
by sillysera
Summary: Annabeth didn't want to look back. She had enough to deal with right in front of her. Abandoned cases of Greek Fire,hysterical Pegasi, and very, very angry furies. She left the deck for one minute to help out Leo with controls and this is what she came back too. But she knew her friends were in huge trouble. And if she didn't do something know, the unknown she feared would manifest


Leo hated dreams.

He was back at the mechanic shop where his mom had died. Broad sunlight streamed through the small windows, gleaming over every single detail in the workshop. Blueprints laid scattered around, faint spots of oil coated the cemented floor, and light blue walls were tacked with sketches of all sorts of designs and unfinished projects. Over to the corner was his mom's old work area. By his mom's workplace hung pictures that Leo had drawn when he was little. Sailboats, spaceships, and a goofy crayon drawing of his mom. Being here stung. He'd rather be with his aunt Tia than here, which was saying a lot.

Leo had been so distracted by where he was, that he didn't even see a boy appear out of the shadows. Literally. He was about six feet tall with sandy blond hair and icy blue eyes. He was dressed in full armor and held a wicked sword made out of celestial bronze on one side, and tempered steel on the other. He had a long scar stretched across his face that looked even more abnormal with the deep frown on his face. He looked like something straight from outlast, but he also did seem strangely familiar. Leo cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh, Hello" Leo muttered, waving his hand in greeting. Even though this was a dream, this guy definitely gave Leo the creeps. Freaky boy, which was what Leo decided to call this guy stood up and walked straight over to Leo. The tip of his sword almost touching Leos non-existent six pack.

"I was really hoping to get into Annabeth's dream. Hell, even Percy's dream, but I guess you'll have to do." He sighed irritably. Leo started to talk.

"Look, I don't even-"

"Look, I don't have time for your pointless questions, just shut up and listen." Leo noticed flames dancing on his fingertips. The more freak boy talked, the more ill-tempered he got. He didn't even know the guy, but he wanted to punch him in the face. But something told him that he should listen to what the guy had to say. It's crazy how dreams work out that way. Once the flames stopped, Leo ran his fingers through his curly brown hair. The guy took it as his cue to talk.

"Listen. You need to sail the Argo 2 to Ibiza as soon as possible." Leo opened his mouth but the guy knew better, he just kept going.

"I said listen, Valdez. There's a threat coming way bigger than what you guys are facing at camp, something that involves a larger threat. Apollo." Leo's laughter filled and bounced off the walls of the empty shop, giving Leo a dirty look from the freak guy.

"Yeah, and I'm an expert sword fighter. Come on, Apollo can barely conjure up a good curse, let alone a good poem." He scoffed.

"Believe it or not, if you don't go to Ibiza right now you and your friends are going to end up dead. Something bad is going on and it won't matter if you save the camp. You'll still face wrath and sacrifice."

"Well, I don't know how I can trust you. I don't even know you. This is a dream, who says this is even real?"

"Even you know better than to discard dreams, Leo. And you know you can trust me just think. I can already feel you waking up. Go now and talk to Artemis. She'll fill you in on the rest." Leo could see true determination and sincerity in his eyes, and he could feel himself waking up.

"Dude, what could Apollo do to endanger the entire world?" Leo questioned.

"Leo, just make sure you tell the rest..." His voice faltered. Leo was waking up.

"But-!"

"Leo just remember. Apollo isn't Apollo!"

Leo bolted upright and tried to hold down the sense of dread and fear that washed over him. If that was who he thought it was, then he just had a conversation with a dead person.

Luke Castellan.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .


End file.
